One day quickly expanded into one week. Instead of the Rookery, Eric ended up living in the alleyways; huddled and hungry, guarding his few possessions for dear life. He knew he'd have to sell them, but only when he was desperate enough. Fortune, however, smiled on him when two young men in dragonskin clothing walked by. It took only a moment to recognize them. "Fred – George?"

"Eric – is that you, mate?" Fred leaned down to give him a hand. "We heard about you getting expelled. The Ministry is looking for you right now. You did know that, right?"

Eric nodded. "I pretty much expected it. Right now I need a meal and a hiding place."

"Fear not, noble confederate, for we can supply both!" George swept up Eric while Fred grabbed his broom.

"I appreciate it. I'll pay you back as soon as I can."

They both smiled. "You can pay us back right now, thistlehead. You're potion marks were always excellent, right? And you're craftsmanship – you've made more fanciful stuff than many people can imagine? We've got more orders for gags than we can fill. How does ten galleons a day plus room and board sound?"

Room and board was more than enough as it stood. Gainful employment was more than he could dream for. "Um, guys? I don't have a wand right now."

George grinned back. "There's a second-hand shop up the way that doesn't ask questions. You should be able to find there that'll be usable for the time being. We'll just take it from your wages for a bit."

As a result, Eric spent the next week in the basement of 93 Diagon Alley crafting one magical item after another, while brewing potions at a hundred doses per batch. He set up a side room for testing, making sure that the mass creation didn't mar the quality. Success was in the air, and the Weasleys couldn't be happier.

After a while, the twins insisted he take a couple days off. Their inventory was nearly filled to capacity, and Eric hadn't slept more than four hours at a time. Unfortunately, it wasn't the work that was keeping him awake. Ministry Aurors had been to the shop more than once. Twice, they had gotten close to where Fred and George were keeping him. They assured him that their defenses were foolproof, and that they would protect him. None of this, however, allowed him to shake the feeling of imminent disaster, or to let his guard down when he was less than exhausted.

It was at one such time, however, when his feelings of dread were confirmed. In a dream he saw Naomi being taken by Aurors. She wasn't taken to the Ministry, however, but to a dark place, one he had never seen before. The Aurors took her wand, bound her hands and covered her mouth to keep her from reciting spells. They then turned away, standing like statues facing outward.

When Eric awoke, it was with the feeling that he saw far more than just a dream. Grasping for his pendant, he found that Naomi was indeed bound and imprisoned. For a moment he could see a parchment, but Naomi looked away. Try as he might, he couldn't convince her to look at it.

"He's with you, isn't he?" Through Naomi's thoughts, the voice sounded clouded. Suddenly Eric's mind was assaulted with nursery rhymes, riddles, poems, and confusing questions thrown at him all at once. The voice, however, managed to pierce through. "The Rookery in two days. Enter the parliament and we will be waiting."

Eric had hoped to go back to the Rookery under more pleasant circumstances, perhaps to meet some of the locals. This, however, was a situation far removed from what he was hoping for. He could feel every eye that looked at him as he crossed the floor into the back room. He knew it was a trap, but he had prepared as best he could. The Rukh wand was stowed in the folds of his overcoat, so he wasn't going unarmed. He only hoped that it would be enough.

Down on the stage stood four figures. In the middle was Naomi. Standing behind her on either side were two hooded figures. In front of them was a shorter gentleman dressed in black, wearing what appeared to be a Quaker's hat. "Good – you've come alone. I am Gabriel Downing, we are Draconians, and you are to come with us."

Eric stood defiantly. "I'm here. Now let her go."

The man laughed. "Why should I? We never promised to release her, and now I have you both."

"HALT!" An unexpected voice rang out from the entrance. Two men, clearly Ministry Aurors, entered the auditorium. "Eric Sable, by order of the Ministry of Magic you are to relieve yourself of all wands, charms, and protective defenses. After this you are to come with us."

Eric was only briefly startled. "Um, excuse the impertinence, but what about the two kidnappers over there?"

The Aurors seemed briefly confused. The three on the stage, however, weren't of a mind to wait. Their stunning spells missed their targets, however, and the Aurors quickly responded. Everyone was diving for cover as crimson bolts shot about when another door burst open, revealing a cloaked figure flanked by two dementors. "Eric Sable – the Death Eaters have come, for Lord Voldemort wishes to see you!"

Eric had planned for the kidnappers, and the Aurors were an expected complication. A Death Eater, however, was not part of the plan at all – it was time for reinforcements. Drawing the Rukh wand out from under his own cloak, he cast a whistling spell into the air that resulted in a deafening resonance throughout the hall. In response to this, Dorian and Tylena burst out from the balcony, casting Rictusempra charms every which way, adding to the chaos. Eric ran under the cover of the spells to finish freeing Naomi, who had already cleared her mouth and summoned her wand.

"Amoranu Kaiserix – patronus collega – incendium caligo!" A plume of fire burst out from the stage, lashing tendrils at the dementors. It seemed to move as if alive, swinging and striking out at the cloaked figures as they scattered about. Naomi seemed to grow tenfold, her eyes glowing a brilliant ruby as darkness seemed to flow from her garments. "Get to the exit, I'll be right with you."

Eric ran for the tavern exit only to find an Auror blocking his way, knocking him over with a Impedimus spell. "Eric Sable – you are under arrest!"

A popping noise above him heralded the entrance of yet another combatant. Sheena landed catlike in the aisle, knocking over the auror with a sweeping kick. "Exitialis Sinistra!" Even without a wand in her hand, the invocation produced results as her left hand glowed with a crackling energy. As if to further make a point, she lashed out at the auror; just missing his head but destroying the chair next to it. "Run! We'll cover you!"

Pleased that the rescue was going so well, Eric dove between the seats to retrieve the Rukh wand. He then called to Dorian and Tylena to beat a retreat before making his way back towards Naomi,. He was less than ten feet from pulling her away from the fight when a cold chill shot up his spine and out to every nerve in his body. Turning about, he saw the Death Eater rise up, wand aimed directly at Naomi as he sibilantly chanted. "Avada ..."

"CAOR!"

No one, not even Eric, could precisely describe what happened. His spell choice was instinctual. The casting gesture was nothing more than a firm directing of the Rukh wand resembling nothing so much as a hasty swing of a stick. Any schooled wizard would have considered the move base and pathetic at best. There was nothing, however, pathetic about a Celtic Thunderbolt. The force of the spell was so powerful that much of the air was blown from the room. It was as if everything had become impossibly quiet, before the thunderclap of air rushing back resounded with such force that everyone in the auditorium was stunned.

Eric staggered back to his feet, wand in hand in case he had to follow up. The Dementors, however, clearly wanted nothing to do with this; choosing to melt back into the shadows and vanishing. Likewise the few remaining Draconians gathered up their stunned and injured, taking them back where they came from. Both Sheena and the auror backed off from each other, clearly waiting for the other's next move while watching to see if anything else came from below.

Taking in the entire scene, Eric found that the Death Eater had been blown through a dozen rows of fixed chairs. The devastation was massive, as the spot where he had stood was now a twenty-foot diameter crater, with pieces of wood and upholstery driven into the floor. Eric cautiously approached the fallen Death Eater, only to stand numb at the sight he found. He was crumpled amid a pile of rubble; his eyes open wide with surprise, a small trickle of blood coming from his mouth, and his neck twisted to a most unnatural angle.

There could be no doubt about it: Eric's Thunderbolt killed a wizard.